Star Trek: The Potter Files
by Cole Pascal
Summary: When Harry Potter is rescued from a planet he spent centuries on alone, he's happy to find his kind still exist on their new world but he exiles himself amongst the muggles of the Federation, hunting for something. Then when his one friend amongst them is murdered, Harry contacts the one group that knows of his abilities and offers his help. For a price.
1. Chapter 1

Picard pushed back from his desk and looked at the screen behind his desk. It showed a filtered image of the Enterprise E, floating in geostationary orbit above Starfleet Academy, literally over his head, the sun partially occluded by the Earth and the ship.

The Sovereign class ship had had so many problems over the years, the class had been retired. The Enterprise was turned into a training ship and museum while the rest of the class had had all the tech torn out then 'new' old stock from the Galaxy class installed. It had ended up becoming a more efficient class, renamed the Data class on honor of the Commander after his death.

He mused about what to do that evening. Beverly was away, visiting family offworld, their adopted 12 year old daughter Valeria with her. He had received a message from them, showing Wesley had been there as well. A trill of disappointment had been drowned in the pleasure of the data Wesley had transmitted from his travels. Even though he was no longer Human, it was still good to see the young man who had taken to calling him dad.

He was about to stand when his door opened. "Commodore, Admiral Nechayev is coming this way!" the young woman said nervously.

"Go home," he told ensign Ivanovo. Only he, Nechayev, and Ivanovo knew the ensign was Nechayev's granddaughter. And if she was nervous it meant her formidable grandmother was likely angry enough not even familial love would protect the recently minted officer.

"Picard," Nechayev said on walking into the office. "Where is she?"

"Sent her home. Her young man returns tomorrow. I'm sure she has shopping to do or something."

"Ah," she muttered, the tone grumbling, reminding Picard that the Admiral disliked her granddaughter's suitor. "I need a favor. The Borg Eradication And Suppression Team were hopeful you'd wear the prosthetic again."

He grumbled himself but nodded. They had been detecting Borg incursions into Federation space once again. The prosthetic let them sample intelligence and hopefully do so without it affecting Picard beyond the nightmares the Collective's voice instilled.

After only three days Beverly had initiated an REM-free coma and told BEAST that if he spent more than six hours a week with the device they'd wake up missing the primary and secondary sexual characteristics.

"When?"

She informed him of the dates she expected him to keep free then she left without further conversation. He watched her go, remembering the first time they met for a moment. It had been the summer before she began at Starfleet Academy while he had been done for a year and back on earth getting reassigned to a new ship. There had been a lot of Bulgarian canapés, champagne, and torn clothing. It had been the first time since his heart replacement and he had been heartened to find out he was still capable of going until dawn.

Shaking the thought off he headed home, a beautiful cabin Admiral Kirk had donated to the Academy in his will, just large enough for a family of four. Theirs included a large Caucasian, a gift from the Russian premier after Picard had gotten the man's daughter straightened out and into the Academy. He had been about to refuse the gift when the puppy bounded over to Valeria and made her squeal happily as he licked her face.

As soon as he stepped into the house an attractive young Ensign fresh out of the academy nodded and said, "Good evening Admiral. Cracker Jack has been fed, your dinner is on the table, correspondence is sorted, and Captain Riker is waiting to speak to you. He is in your office. Wine?"

"A bottle of Chateau Picard," he confirmed.

He walked into his office and found Riker sitting at his desk, the dog's enormous head in his lap as the man read the book Picard had left on his desk, Ulysses.

Riker set it down and took off his reading glasses. "How do you get any work done with him around?"

"Usually by locking him into his room."

"He has his own room?"

"he has his own area code."

That set Riker to laughing.

"What brings you by? I thought the Nimitz wouldn't be done with shakedown for another month."

"They weren't. But during the Variable Attack Vector testing the three Defiant classes and the Interceptor class fighters breaking away from the Command and Control center, there were some issues with clamps. There were two serious injuries, Ensign Willows may end up medically retired."

Picard nodded, thinking about the new class of ship. It was a carrier, a Super Dreadnought command and control ship, a hospital ship, an armament and refueling ship, three defiant class ships, and 128 Interceptors all mated together, a massive carrier style ship that broke apart into a task force that Starfleet Command hoped would be capable of protecting whole star systems from Borg predation. And for those times they had to get down to the surface without being able to beam, ARMOR [Angular-Refraction Mitigation Orbital Release] Corps Starfleet Marines would drop in, the pods able to mitigate the shields the Borg used as long as the armor the Marines within wore was unpowered until they hit the ground.

"How long are you dry-docked?"

"Six weeks easily, I came by to deliver this, though. Deanna found it while she was going through some boxed up stuff." He held out a box.

Picard opened it and smiled. "I thought this was destroyed when D went down on Veridian III."

"It was. Deanna found it, she took it to be restored then forgot about it when we got it back." The war with the Klingons had been a distraction and they had had their non-critical belongings sent to Earth.

"Actually, there's another reason i visited. Remember the rescue mission on Gedix Prime IX?"

Picard nodded, sitting down on the couch as his bat[wo]man poured the wine and left the room.

"That Ensign looked familiar."

"Her father served on the D. He died during the Lore-Borg events," Picard said. "Her mother requested a transfer to Earth after that."

Riker nodded, recognizing her. She had sat in his lap at least twice when he'd visited the children's classes, a duty the captain was supposed to have done but had avoided it near religiously.

"How goes having a child?"

"I find if i treat her like a small adult with a mild control problem she's much easier to deal with," he replied, smiling.

Riker laughed. Beverly and Deanna kept in contact. Valeria had the admiral wrapped around her finger so tightly that a nanite couldn't get under him.

"I should buy a vineyard," Riker said, savoring the wine.

"My friend is selling hers. I planned on buying it since it abuts mine but if you're really interested."

"I could buy it but sell the grapes to you," he mused. While some aspects of the Federation didn't use money, they were still a mildly capitalist society. The necessities were free but the luxuries had to be worked for. Starfleet personnel, after twenty years of very frugal living, could retire with as much as fifty million credits.

"I'll discuss it with Deanna. Anyway, the Gedix mission? Do you remember it?"

Picard nodded. It had been during a routine resurvey of a system when they found a power source in orbit of a planet. Then saw three letters on the surface, each two kilometers high: SOS. A glittery blue visual distress message.

It had taken almost a month to create a shuttle capable of entering the atmosphere. Even if there was no longer life on the planet the lure to investigate how it had been done was too great for explorers.

They had found a green-eyed young man who had been greatly emaciated and filthy. He had told them he was the last of his people, his ancestors had crashed on the planet nearly three hundred years before.

Surrounding the crashed ship were hundreds of graves.

They had gotten him back aboard with crates of supplies he had requested they bring back then they had done as he requested, scouring the SOS and the ground down fifty meters.

Three weeks later they had rendezvoused with the Eclipse and he had gone back to earth.

"Yes, Potter was his name, right?"

"I ran into him when we got back. He looked exactly the same age. I tried to check his records but Section 31 locked them down. Had one of their agents come try to debrief me."

* * *

Lieutenant Farley of section 31 sighed. His group had just finished crafting a new quadrinary torpedo that used transphasic energy for use against the Borg when a Borg scout ship infiltrated the system. They had had to destroy the lab and escape in transwarp capable shuttles. They hadn't even been able to fire the torpedo since it was too large for contemporary torpedo tubes.

His executive officer detonated the torpedo, turning the lab into a crater and the planetoid cracked, emitting radiation that would contaminate the system for centuries.

"Hang on, it's about to get bumpy," Lt. Commander Whittings said, the excitement in her voice at finally getting to fly the shuttle.

The three shuttles fired off their contingent of micro-torpedoes before entering warp speed.

Inside subspace, they linked navigation to the lead shuttle then seemed to drift sideways and out of subspace.

Farley wanted to vomit. This was his third flight into transwarp space and each time before he had expelled his lunch. This time was no different.

He wiped his lips on his sleeve. "Sorry Molly."

The woman across from him nodded but the annoyance in her eyes at the regurgitated meal on her uniform and boots was evident. The only reason she didn't kick it towards him was the fact he was her husband and she knew his gag reflex was so weak he would vomit as soon as the urge came on, never leaving him time to get to a safe place.

"We'll be at Wolf 359 in about six hours," Whittings said. "Villo, you have the stick. Farleys, clean yourselves up. The rest of you figure out how to air the shuttle out so I can enjoy my gazpacho."

That set Farley off again, this time to the amusement of the crew.

* * *

Beverly smiled indulgently as her grandnieces pulled Valeria along to see the just born sheep. Her family lived on a reservation world, colonized to maintain the skills that had created the basis of their technology. And their exported foodstuffs and wares helped make up the interstellar marketplace.

She mused idly about the return home, getting back to work at Starfleet Medical, then going home and having Picard's strong hands work her body into an orgiastic frenzy.

A hint of pink colored her cheeks as she thought about him above her, thrusting hard and fast, knocking her head into the headboard, leaving her addled in that wonderful way no other minor head trauma could.

She shivered delightfully then took out her PADD and tugged her sweater down enough to show off her cleavage then took a hologram of herself and sent it off to Jean-Luc, imagining him receiving it during a meeting and spending the next hour dreaming of her instead of work, fantasizing about taking her in his office, right on top of his desk, all the while Alynna would be waiting on Picard to have time to see her, never realizing that he was cumming deep in his wife's ass then shoving a plug into it to hold the semen in place.

She wrote up the fantasy, adding more to it then sent it off to Jean-Luc as well, wondering if there was a lingerie shop she could visit to get something to surprise her husband with. They had both been pleasantly surprised to learn he enjoyed being forced to wear her lingerie to work, though Beverly had been a little put out how much better his legs were than hers in her Andaren silk stockings.

She giggled at the thought of Jean-Luc sitting down to lunch with the Klingon Ambassador while wearing stockings, a suspender belt, crotchless knickers, and a shelfless bra.

Beverly smiled as the children came running back towards her, this time leading her towards the newborn lambs

* * *

Riker settled in at the café, enjoying the smell of baking bread emanating from the bakery across the street, his glass of Chateau Picard given to him on the house when he was recognized. it went incredibly well with his burger, something he hadn't had in years.

Deanna will murder me, he thought as he took a bite, savoring the grease running down his chin.

"Yes, I will. The doctors said no real red meat," she told him as she sat down, intentionally leaning forward to show him her cleavage while wiping his chin for him.

"I only do it once every few months. Man was not meant to live on rabbit food alone."

She chuckled as the sommelier brought another glass of wine for her. "A dessert that goes best with this," she asked him and he nodded.

"What wine?" she asked when he left.

"Chateau Picard. 2345."

"Jean-Luc seemed very happy to have his statue back," he told her. "And I'm very happy I get to take my wife to bed tonight."

"Actually, you get to take both your wives to bed tonight," a voice said from behind them.[1]

Brenna Riker sat down and exchanged quick kisses with her wife and husband then smiled at the sommelier who returned with the dessert and a third glass of wine. "We'll share the dessert," Deanna told the man and he nodded, walking off, wondering why Captain Riker would want to have two wives, remembering the old joke about monogamy and polygamy both being the same problem, one wife too many.

Riker grinned. "You're back early."

"I had to take a Federation ship," Brenna told them. "The commercial liner ended up towed to a dry-dock near New Vulcan[2]."

"How's your father?" Deanna asked, running her toes up and down her wife's leg.

She grinned back at the Betazed. "Drunk as a lord, I swear. His silly wife indulges him so." She liked her stepmother well enough though she didn't think the woman had a strong enough hand to rein in her father.

"I would very much like my wives to indulge me," he teased the two.

"It's been sometime," Deanna said softly. "If you want him to yourself tonight, I do have some paperwork to do."

"I want both my spouses," she whispered then leaned over and kissed Deanna hard.

Riker grinned as two teenage boys looked like they were going to faint.

He mouthed 'Mine' at the two boys who looked like water would burst into steam if thrown on them.

* * *

Admiral Cantor looked at the latest update on Potter. Captain Riker had looked up his file then one of Section 31 went to debrief him.

He looked at the database that tracked people tagged Q. The young man had powers though he professed they were 'magic.'

When they had tried to press him into service, Potter had laughed at him and turned him into a jackass then told them to leave him alone.

Years later, Cantor had been found by Potter and the man had offered his services. He hadn't made many friends since being returned to Earth he had informed Cantor but one had meant a lot to him. She had been murdered by the Borg.

Cantor had asked what exactly he was capable of.

Potter had destroyed a planetoid after making it through the training scenario in a record time. Without any form of technology.

He touched the pad that would connect him to Potter's safe house, a very luddite cabin in Northern Scotland, near a dead valley. No one was sure why he wanted to live there but no one pressed either.

Most technology, even the most hardened Starfleet tech, died anywhere near the valley. Potter had designed the casing himself to protect his PADD.

"What do you want?" Potter asked. While he might work for them and have a rank, he didn't like Section 31 or his 'boss.'

"Captain Riker saw you in London."

"Why didn't he say hello?" There was a pause. "Is that all?"

"No, we need you to come in."

* * *

Harry Potter appeared in front of Cantor, making the man jump in fright.

"How do you do that‽"

"Magic," Harry replied, looking the man over. He had gotten fatter and more slovenly. "I was balancing two birds on my bits, What?"

He reached into the air and a moment later his hand was holding a pint of a dark beer with a luscious looking head on it then Potter sat down.

"Why am I here?"

He pushed one of the specially shielded PADDs over.

Potter left his mug hanging in the air and looked at the data on the device.

"How much energy?"

"A twentieth of the efficiency of you cracking a planetoid open."

"Do you still not understand? It's magic. I exert my will on the universe, I don't use some sort of advanced technology." He was getting sick and tired of reexplaining this every time. He left off the truly immortal bit.

He tossed the PADD back and disappeared.

Another agent of Section 31 came in and began scanning the room while Cantor waited.

"Your desk is a milligram heavier." Neither would be able to see Harry's engraving or dragon blood that activated the runes. "The air displacement was within a yoctolitre of what it was when you called for him."

"He's not possible."

"He must be a Q, like that Rogers girl."

Amanda?" Cantor asked and his agent nodded. Cantor nodded as well, musing on the possibility.

* * *

Harry made a note of the name. He'd have to look through Lt. Commander Jako's mind-the closest Section 31 agent as he lived in Edinburgh-when he had the chance.

Instead he went back to his cabin, apparating to the long path he had reseeded with dangerous magical creatures.

He sighed as he passed the hippogriff as it bowed to him, trembling. All creatures feared death, especially those intelligent magical creatures that could sense the cloak of death around him. The day all three had been on his person, the cloak melted into his body, allowing him to will himself invisible and hidden from the universe.

He stopped to scratch the head of one of the few that didn't outright fear him, the Jarvies. But even they were respectful. The foulest thing they called him was "Quim!"

He grinned and turned to the other Jarvie that had just screeched. "You are what you eat," he reminded the creature then continued on. Over the years he had carefully revived the animals his people had left in suspended animation. When the Eugenics Wars had begun, the magicals had finally given up. They had changed their money back into gold then bought generational ships. Their system of choice had been the recently proven habitable worlds of the Sirius system. Harry had been annoyed by the choice since they had done it to honor his godfather but also pleased by the choice.

After he had returned to Earth, it had taken nearly four years before he worked up the courage to visit Sirius. The trip that took 76 ships nearly three generations when they had left only took him seven days.

His people had been stunned to see him alive. He had thought he would be forgotten by then but there had been statues everywhere and some enterprising spell crafter had created a charm that would alert everyone if the real Harry Potter ever made it to the new home planet. Which had been named after him: Potter's Rock. He actually like that one. It had just barely beaten Harry's Haven. Harry knew he'd have scraped the planet to bedrock if they had.

He had told them what happened to his ship. Sabotage. One of Singh's men had gotten aboard.

Then he had met the descendants of his, Fleur, and Hermione: Both of his wives had been in charge of different ships since they could easily apparate from ship to ship.

He had been thankful then. He met a little girl with his eyes and Hermione's cheekbones. He met a young boy who had Fleur's facial structure. He met a Weasley, still red haired and obsessed with the Federation.

There had even been Longbottoms and Lupin-Tonkses still.

He had wanted to stay but something had called him back to Earth. Even with their mass exodus and great care to take everything, he knew there was still something on Earth to find.

And he had found it just before the Borg murdered his friend. A machine. A magical machine. Designed to create paths to new planes.

He had transferred it from the temple deep below Machu Picchu and created a hidden workshop below his cabin, phasing it out of existence, into a pocket dimension Hermione had created when she realized stasis spells weren't enough to protect the last of the magical creatures.

He worked on understanding its mechanics when he could, when he wasn't being flown from system to system, analyzing Borg detritus in his own way, helping craft a machine/biological virus that couldn't be protected from by creatures of technology.

He had been a little shocked to see how they tested it. Genetically engineered humanoids from every species known were infected by assimilation tubules harvested from dead drones and then once the infection had been completed, they were executed in various ways, testing how to stop them from communicating. Harry had decided that since they weren't sentient, they weren't really human.

* * *

TBC once there is a threshold of reviews and queries that make me look at how this story is supposed to expand.

* * *

1: I still occasionally dream about Rosalyn Landor's seduction scene in TNG. With me in Riker's place and her thoroughly impregnated.

2: Yes, this is taking place in the AU that was started by the Borg going back in time, the one the new AU exists in(though it can be argued it was started by Nero's going back in time(I see it as Nero's going back in time was predicated by the Borg having gone back in time.)). In this TL, Deanna and Riker hook up as soon as they meet again on the Enterprise D. And when Brenna comes along, while she's shocked to learn he's already married/their relationship is open, she's intrigued enough to keep in contact. Within nine months she's excepted their proposal. She arranges for her father to remarry then four months later the three are married.[3]

3: Most aspects of the TNG timeline will be basically the same though the borg have a smaller base due to Picard using the virus and the Mirror Universe getting raided for technology when they declare war on the Federation. The Borg no longer exist in our sector of space, the rest are deep in the Gamma Quadrant, centuries away.


	2. A NOTE FROM THE WRITER

My grandmother broke her hip recently. Sadly, I will try to come back to this but for the immediate future, trying to find a new telecommuting job, making more money, moving out of a hundred year old house(this place was built in 1905), and taking care of her is my main priority.

Should you feel the interest in helping out, we have a charity page at fundlydotcom/marystanley.


End file.
